


My Name Is Searching, Since You Stole My Only Soul

by on_the_moon_at_last



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, F/M, Kidnapping, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Sharon Carter (Marvel), POV Wanda Maximoff, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Psychic Abilities, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_the_moon_at_last/pseuds/on_the_moon_at_last
Summary: Steve, Sharon, and Sam track an amnesiac and volatile Bucky to the Tennesee mountains. While there, Sharon discovers an unexpected kindred spirit. HYDRA, now led by a mysterious man named von Strucker, sends two dangerous assets after the Winter Soldier.The title comes from the song "My Name (Wearing Me Out)" by Shinedown.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sharon Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Sharon Carter & Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A relatively short story, featuring a prologue, two chapters, and an epilogue.
> 
> Some important pre-fic notes:
> 
> 1) Think of this as a bridge for Steve between The Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron, with just about everything going AU after TWS. The biggest point of divergence is, of course, Team Cap finding Bucky fairly quickly after the Battle at the Triskelion. His relationship with Sharon is also given more importance to both characters' arcs going forward (both individually and together). This is a very Staron/Cap13-centric story so if that is not your thing, this might not be the story for you. Knowing how, erm, intense things can be I have no desire for ship wars to erupt in the comments. If you don't like the pairing and choose to proceed, please be civil. I sincerely hope you enjoy it regardless.
> 
> 2) Baron von Strucker is given a larger presence in the HYDRA corner of things. He was supposed to be their new leader after Pierce died and we only saw him fleetingly? Nah. What a waste of both the character and actor, to be frank. Course correction imminent. HYDRA is very much going to be an active threat to our main heroes, instead of their influence being relegated to Agents of SHIELD.
> 
> 3) This is not, however, my take on "the third solo film Steve deserved". That comes later, so think of this as a prelude. Still debating on whether that story will be told in prose or script form.

What is time anymore? What’s a day, an hour, a minute, a month, or a week? What is a name? He’s gone so long without one.

For a time, he dreams in rapid flashes.

A train, a fall, a short Swiss man.

Pain.

Cold.

None of it means anything to him, why should it? He’s not a person, he’s a weapon that just so happens to breathe. A metal fist. An assassin.

The Winter Soldier.

The man behind that predator remembers dragging his enemy, his target, out of a river. Why did he do that? Does it even matter?

No. None of it matters. Nothing matters.

 _A name_ , thinks the man behind the instrument, _that matters_. **_No, it doesn’t_** , the other replies.

The friend who tried to save him yesterday- no, 70 years ago, no. What was time? It’s all a monotonous blur to both the man and the monster.

The man remembers things like names, dates, places, but the context is ever elusive. The monster could care less, except when they meet in dreams and the man asks too many questions. But the monster is not in control of the body.

The man decides they need to get away, far away. Out of the country, if necessary. But how? They have no money. _He_ has no money. More to the point, the man has been wandering rather aimlessly up and down the coast and inland for the past… again, what is time? Everything is so scrambled.

 **Bucky** , the name reverberates in his mind. The man on the bridge, the man he pulled from the river. The man who knew him. The only man.

Did that matter anymore? They were on opposite sides.

It doesn’t matter where he goes, only that he is away. Away is the most important part here. Away from people. He doesn’t want to hurt people anymore.

The man doesn’t want to do anything for them anymore.

But his masters? His masters are still around, he can feel it.

The monster is listening intently for the siren song of its masters.

He needs to get away and he needs to do it now.


	2. Our Soul From Us Is Infinitely Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon learns; Baron Strucker makes use of assets both old and new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold some delicious angst. This chapter's title comes from "Sonnet I" by Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa.

**July 14th, 2014**

**Three Months After HYDRA’s Uprising**

The Smoky Mountains. Tennessee, USA. 3:50 AM CST

It’s the quiet of the cabin which perturbs her the most. This eerie stillness and claustrophobic feeling the mist outside only exacerbated. If you asked Sharon Carter where she’d be six weeks ago, the Smokies were the last place she would give as an answer. Still cleaning up the mess at the Potomac is what she would’ve said. The agent has been doing her damndest to both process and ignore the events of that eventful few days. It’s something she’ll sort out later; right now there’s a job to do.

Why did Barnes have to vanish into Tennessee? Too many bad memories for her in Tennessee, mostly involving an old friend named Ophelia. High school. Foreign exchange kid. Long story. She digresses.

Sharon is dressed in appropriate late winter/early spring wear for her locale. A big coat and sweats baggy enough to make sure a thigh holster isn’t noticeable. That and her knife are the only things keeping her from freaking out. She’s not faced the Winter Soldier personally but she will if this escalates. She’s ready for that probable outcome but it doesn’t mean she’s fearless in this scenario. Sharon is well aware of the stories of the Intelligence Community’s boogeyman. From what Steve and Sam shared, the stories don’t do him justice.

The knife in her right hand would scream if it could, she’s holding it so tightly. The stillness envelops her as she imagines an octopus tentacle might and she feels like every breath might be her last. An apt description, given who they’ve been tailing for over a month. The shadows surrounding her are only broken up by the faint flashlight she’s brought along. The damn batteries are probably dying. Sharon doubts they’ll last until she finds Barnes.

The sun hasn’t even begun to rise, giving depth to the darkness of the cabin. If Sharon feared the dark and what hid within, she would actually be screaming internally. Thankfully, SHIELD bred any such trepidation out of her before it could prove problematic. She passes the bathroom, which she knows is the bathroom because the door is wide open, and a disappointed sigh just barely escapes through Sharon’s gritted teeth. Shining her flashlight inside, her quarry is nowhere to be seen. Not sure if she’s thankful for that. On the mirror, though, is written the word ‘James’ in what looks like blood. His blood? It can’t be. Gotta be fake. Then again, she remembers seeing a kindly-looking old couple around here a few days ago. Sweet Baby Jesus, who precisely is this man? Maybe Sam was right and the guy Steve’s friend is now doesn’t need saving. Maybe what he requires is being put down.

“At least turn on a light, Barnes,” Sharon grumbles as she continues creeping through the living room and up to the staircase. What kind of weirdo has a midnight bathroom break with the lights off?

The only sounds as she ascends are her own footsteps and her faint breathing. The footsteps can’t be helped. It’s an old cabin, even with the recent upkeep, so the boards creak. Sharon makes a mental note to take Steve to a place like this, should he ever work up the nerve to ask her out. But how did Barnes manage to stay here? The HYDRA goon she pulverized last week made it clear their precious Winter Soldier was only ever out of the ice when given an assignment. Makes you wonder how the hell he’s paying for something this nice. How’d he even get money in the first place? For a moment, she’s actually jealous. Just as she completes the staircase ascent, her flashlight goes out. Shit. Last thing she needs right now. This cabin is creepy enough. Just for once, she’d like to find someone hiding out in Malibu or the Bahamas. Such fortune seems not for her. Sharon’s deeply regretting her choice to go in alone, to make the boys wait in the van,but this is something she felt needed doing herself. She needs to see him.Maybe try not to put her knife in his brain. Or a bullet. Her mind briefly goes to her thigh holster. No time for worrying about that now, she’s got a job to do.

Sharon kicks in the first door she sees. Nothing. An empty bedroom.

The second yields the same result.

It’s the third room that makes her freeze.

The Winter Soldier, sitting on the edge of an implausibly plushy bed, in the dark, with this back to the woman come to find him. That’s not what’s caused her blood to run cold. No, the silhouette is not remotely it. Yes, she fears the Winter Soldier as much as anyone who’s actually tangled with him but this is different. The calmness, that’s the worst part. She expected a fight or an ambush at the very least. The patterns Barnes exhibited? They don’t exactly lend themselves to anything much at all in terms of productive or restful sleep. He’s just sitting there, unmoving, not even acknowledging her presence! After what feels like a brief infinity, words permeate the early morning stillness:

“If you’re gonna knife me, kid, get it over with. Please.”

“What?”

The figure shifts his weight, still doesn’t look at her. His gruff tone vaguely reminds her of Brock fucking Rumlow. The pair of them came up in SHIELD together, they were as close to genuine friends as two employees of a clandestine spy agency could be, so having to point a gun at him three months ago? Not a memory she appreciates being reminded of in the slightest. She’s not sure what was worse regarding him- the fact he was HYDRA or how it was Brock Rumlow betraying them. Betraying her. Good thing she knows how to shed venomous snakes who pose as friends. Didn’t mean it was easy. Didn’t mean it was something she wanted to do. Speaking of Rumlow? Sharon visited him exactly once before he got discharged from the hospital. Seeing him smashed up by a building was bittersweet in the catharsis it provided, let’s be honest, but she did so wish she could unsee the fear in his eyes. That contemptuous smug grin evaporating the moment she responded to one of his typical backhanded compliments with how she was part of a team tracking down Barnes. As satisfying as it was, it confirmed one of her bigger suspicions regarding STRIKE: even they feared their prize. Feared what he would be like if he existed outside of their control.

Another movement from Barnes jolts Sharon back to the present. The question she’s met with is enough to knock her flat on her ass, it demonstrates such a chasmic skew of priorities.

“What is it, like three-fifty-one?”

Strange thing to ask about, but he could very well use idle chatter to throw her off. It’s happened before and she doesn’t feel like repeating old mistakes. “Yeah.” Simple, direct, one-word answers. He could still be a threat, after all. No use dropping her guard to even pantomime checking the wristwatch she doesn’t have.

“Steve? Are you here?”

“Just you and me. Turn around.”

“Sharon, if you’re gonna hold a knife to me do it properly and with intent.”

“How do you know my name?”

He goes quiet again, moves. Reaches for something. Sharon tightens her grip on the knife. A lamp flicks on. In this unexpectedly bright light, Barnes turns to face her but that’s the extent of his movements.

“You been tracking me, I’ve been tracking you. Goes both ways.”

If this is meant to put her at ease, it doesn’t work. Instead, it just makes her want to force his silence all the more. God, this is worse than if they were actually throwing down. Still, the least she can do is humor him for a brief moment. He’s probably gone without legitimate conversation since he fell off that train. “Why’d you pull Captain Rogers from the Potomac?”

“No idea, but I wanna know. Figured keeping an eye on the three of you was the best way to do that.”

“Downstairs-“

“Yeah, I had a bit of a breakdown earlier.”

That’s not infinitesimally comforting. Does this guy know how to de-escalate a situation?

“You remind me of her, Sharon. Your aunt, I mean.”

“How did you-?”

“Black Widow dumped a lot of shit onto the cyberspace playground.”

Right. She and Natasha are going to have a long talk about that real soon.

“I suppose if you wanted to kill me then I would already be in a bag. You are a Carter after all. Taking me to see him?”

Sharon finally inches a tiny fraction of a step closer to him. For his part, he stands and outstretches his arms. Hands open, palms up. He’s no threat, but she’s still not so sure.

“Didn’t think you’d make it this easy.”

“I don’t do that sort of thing anymore, Agent Thirteen. But he does and I don’t want him rattling around in my head anymore. Thought maybe you could help.”

“I’ll still kick your ass if I need to, Barnes.”

He laughs, wanting to say she can call him by his first name. Then he remembers he doesn’t have the firmest grasp on what it is. If he even has one anymore or ever did. That laugh is the one thing that gives Sharon even a split-second of respite. She drops the shoulders she hadn’t even noticed she’d raised, the sudden lack of tension an unexpected balm. Her mom always said she could be more relaxed. She taps the comm in her ear and says:

“Steve? Sam? We’re good here. I think he might want to see you guys.”

The man nods. “I just want to figure out who the hell I am without… everything. SHIELD. HYDRA. All of it.”

Despite herself, Agent Thirteen responds, “That’s one thing we have in common.”

Did they, really? Have anything in common, or was it just a reflexive attempt at conversation? Surely she knew who she was outside her previous place of employment. Who she _is_. Surely she is enough of her own person without the routine. She’s essentially at the same job within the CIA, just a different organization calling her shots. A massive wave of pity crashes over for this man, and she can’t bring herself to do anything but offer what she hopes is a comforting smile.

To her surprise, he smiles back.

HYDRA Research Facility. Novi Grad, Sokovia. 10:35 AM GMT+1

Pain is the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. White-hot searing pain, like that time she accidentally burned herself on the oven at age five, made infinitely worse and spread through her whole being. Her only respite is her tormentors having the decency of putting her in a cell next to her brother. Even this is cold comfort given their suffering. Seduced into this by promises of vengeance and justice, the pair were always told they were working for SHIELD and would make a great difference in the world. Part of her wants to remind Pietro that these people are helping them, that anything is good if it helps them get their revenge on Tony Stark and the Avengers. Another part of her says this is wrong, that they’ve been used. She listens to the former more often.

Crawling to the wall, hoping my some miracle whatever they’ve done to Pietro allows him to sense her as she does him, she presses her hand against the cold metal and plastic. She whispers his name, but the only response is the whoosh of her cell door opening and the manacled man standing over her.

“Good morning, Wanda,” he greets in German-accented Sokovian. She’s too tired to look directly at him, to even lift her head fully. The young woman had used her powers to move her food over to her brother. He was always hungry lately, owing to whatever they did to him. Hungrier now than he’s ever been. She can’t remember the last time she’s eaten a full meal. If what they’re fed constitutes a meal.

“Guten Morgen,” comes her own weak voice. This rewards her a smile, a wolfish grin overtaking his face.

Baron Wolfgang von Strucker kneels down, gripping Wanda’s chin in his hands and forcing eye contact. “Your German is getting better, I see. Better pronunciation.” He says it like it’s a crowning achievement. It sounds like death in her mouth. “I have good news, Fraulien Maximoff,” he switches to English. “You and your brother are the only two who survived the process.”

Her bleary, sleep-deprived eyes come into something resembling focus. For a moment, she’s not sure who she feels sorrier for- herself for surviving or for the others who will never see their families again. Maybe it doesn’t matter either way. A flicker of intense inappropriate rage flashes through her at the others, at their being spared whatever it is comes next for herself and Pietro. She doesn’t notice how the glass cracks.

“I have a mission for you,” the Baron continues. Finally, she lifts her head of her own accord but only barely. Whatever remaining upper body strength she has is all to keep it from hitting the floor. Wanda moans, only vaguely seeing Pietro pressed up against the glass door of his own cell, desperate to see her. She sees him mouth something but can’t make out what it is. Whatever it is, he’s probably screaming it. The Baron only chuckles. A thin sickly sound, like he can’t get enough air in his lungs to properly laugh. “I am proud of the two of you,” he says sincerely. It’s almost nauseating how genuine his pride is in their monstrous transformation into whatever they are now. Are they even themselves anymore? She wants to kill him right then and there, get her brother, and the two of them will leave this place never to return. The castle overlooking Novi Grad, into which this facility was built, will be soiled for them for the rest of their lives but it is worth it. With these new abilities, they will make the world right. The Baron has promised them that if nothing else. The twins do not trust him, but what choice do they have? The Avengers are systematically searching HYDRA bases all across the planet, hoping to find the very thing that gifted them these powers. Powers over the mind and great speed. Powers they can use to defeat the Avengers, show the world how the half-dozen beloved heroes are nothing in the face of real strength. As if reading her thoughts the same way she can read his, he whispers:

“We have a newish asset in the United States. It's six hours earlier there and I forgot about the time change. He wasn't too pleased. How would you like to kill an Avenger?”

This is enough to brighten her previously dour mood. She smiles and shakes her head. Tells him she’s listening. The next thing she knows, she’s being seated at a table and an actual meal is being placed in front of her. She dips her finger in for a taste. Paprikash! Her favorite. Pietro sits opposite her and she is glad the bowl is big enough to share. The Baron stands behind the younger twin, whispering in her ear:

“You and I, Wanda, are going to America.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 should be up before the New Year.


End file.
